Happiness
by 2tailswaggin
Summary: After House's Ketamine treatment things are looking up but nothing lasts forever. Also find the sequel 'Broken'.
1. Chapter 1

House seemed...happy. Ironic as that sounded. House and happy could hardly co-exist without a punch line. But happy seemed the only way to explain it. And why would he not be? He had his mobility back, he was pain free: it must have been something he never expected could happen. No cane, no limp. House's off-center gait was the only walk Cameron had ever seen him have.

And now it just seemed so...different. 

Cameron found herself watching him as he walked past the elevator and headed towards the stairwell door. He stopped, turned around and caught her stare.

She quickly looked away, trying to act like she was doing anything but watching him, even though she knew she'd been caught. There was no getting away with anything when it came to House. That was something the Ketamine certainly hadn't changed.

"Gimpy can't catch a break, can he? He limps and people stare. He doesn't limp and people still stare. What up wit dat?" House yelled down the hallway at Cameron, with one hand on the stairwell door.

Cameron quickly looked around and cringed, wondering just how many people heard and how embarrassed she should feel. The handful of nurses and orderlies gathered around the floor's main desk were all staring now and she turned towards House and glared back at him wishing he'd really not just done that.

She quickly walked towards him saying, "I'm sorry. I'm just happy for you," her voice much lower than his, hoping their sudden audience would find something else to entertain themselves with.

"You really are a stuffed animal from Grandma, aren't you?" House said, pausing just long enough for Cameron to start to respond, then disappearing through the stairwell door.

Cameron, mouth open and air drawn ready for a reply, froze there as the door closed in her face. She released her breath, smiled, and rolled her eyes, watching through the small square window in the door as House retreated up the stairs, jumping two steps at a time.

She knew there was no use following after him. She didn't have a response for him anyway, she'd been caught, but the idea of House without that signature limp was something she was still trying to wrap her mind around.

She turned and headed towards the elevator avoiding the looks of those still watching her. Cameron was sure they were hoping for more rumor-mill material. House's antics were always cause for mindless conversation as far as the hospital staff were concerned.

Cameron hit the button calling for the up elevator and disappeared behind the protection of the steel doors.

Cameron unlocked her front door while juggling her work bag and the groceries she'd stopped and picked up on the way home. She swung the door open, picked up more bags she'd deposited on the floor in the corridor, walked into her apartment and kicked the door shut behind her.

She walked into her kitchen, dropping her work bag on the couch on her way and setting the rest of her bags on the table. She unpacked her perishables and placed them in the refrigerator, then left the rest of the groceries to be put away later.

She needed her run.

Leaving a trail of work clothes from the kitchen to her bedroom, she soon left her apartment, ready to clear her mind of the details of her day.

Going for a run to sort things out in her mind had been helpful to her while House was in his coma.

At first, she hadn't understood the magnitude of his request for the Ketamine. In the days of sitting with him in his hospital room, she read everything she could get her hands on about the subject. The parts that troubled her were the reports of various side effects regarding brain activity. Surely House was aware of this? But to risk losing his edge as a brilliant doctor with the only pay off being possible relief from his leg hurting…For the first time she began to realize the unimaginable intensity of the pain House must experience.

But these were things she rarely thought of while she ran anymore. House's Ketamine treatment had been successful. It was obvious he hadn't lost his unique ability to solve their medical cases and so far his pain seemed to be gone. And Cuddy had taken the liberty of administering Naltrexone and putting House through a UROD program while he was in his coma. So not only was his pain gone, his body was no longer chemically dependent upon the Vicodin.

The initial fatigue Cameron felt when she'd began her run had passed now and she'd settled into a comfortable pace when she felt the eerie presence of someone behind her. Immediately conscious of the idea that running out here alone in the dark wasn't the wisest of things to do, she began to pick up her pace as she removed the earphone from her right ear so she could be more alert to what was around her.

As Cameron increased her pace, the stranger did as well, until both of them were nearly at a sprint. Finally, she could see him out of the corner of her eye. Damn it, it was House! Relieved and a little pissed at the same time, she took a few more leaps forward as if about to lose her balance and bent over. Hands on her hips and gasping for air, she choked out, "What do you think you're doing? You scared the hell of out me!"

House slowed his pace. Cameron was sure she heard him laugh as he called back, "You're half my age! C'mon!"

Cameron caught up with him, still winded, and said, "I was plotting just which sensitive spot I was going to attack first, you know that?"

"That could have turned interesting," House laughed in response.

Cameron just rolled her eyes as she began to settle back into her pace and looked straight ahead, not acknowledging his comment. She decided to remove both earphones and hold them in her hand as she continued to run and listen to the sound of their breathing and their shoes occasionally beating the pavement in unison.

Although still a little angry from being startled, she couldn't help but smile. This was certainly something she never thought would be possible…she was jogging through the streets of Princeton with House.

They continued for several more blocks, in silence apart from the sound of their breathing and the pounding of their feet, until they made their way back to Cameron's neighborhood. Just short of her apartment, Cameron slowed her run to a walk. With her hands on her hips she tried to regulate her breathing once again.

House never slowed up, and never looked back.

Cameron smiled and walked towards her front door watching House until he disappeared down the dark street. She almost laughed to herself out of excitement for him. No wonder House had been so happy lately. That must feel absolutely incredible to him, she thought as she unlocked her door and went inside for a shower.

When House showed up again the next evening, Cameron's heart skipped several beats while it thumped inside her chest and she turned away so House couldn't see the smile that was plastered across her face. The first night she figured could have been pure chance that they met up with each other, but now it had happened again.

This went on for a few weeks, and their runs together quickly became Cameron's favorite time of the day. Somewhere along her run, House would join her. Sometimes early and sometimes late, but he always showed up. Cameron figured on some level he must be enjoying it too since House never did anything he didn't want to do.

Cameron noticed House wasn't bringing his iPod any longer, but neither of them ever spoke. Cameron had to smirk to herself when she reasoned she and House could get on quite well as long as neither of them said anything.

So Cameron knew better than to mention any of this at the office and of course she never expected House to bring up the subject either, unless he could find some smart-assed way to use it against her.

Over time, she'd learned to leave well enough alone. Not everything needed to be 'talked about' and everything certainly didn't need to become everyone else's business. She could respect that. Not that she totally agreed.

It was clear to her that trust was something House didn't give away without good reason, or even with good reason, so she'd decided to let it go and hopefully one day deserve it in his eyes. She just wanted to be present in his life and let him make any moves that might be made. She figured with House, there was probably no other way.

It was another beautiful fall evening, and as Cameron passed the elementary school, she began to wonder if House was going to show. He'd always joined her by this point. She even found him waiting there for her once; stretching. She decided he'd gotten an early start and had waited for her to come along, although he'd never admit it.

By the time she arrived back at her place she'd talked herself out of worrying about him. It could be anything, she reasoned and the last thing House would want would be her caring. But when he didn't show the next evening either, she decided it was time to break their unspoken code of silence.


	2. Chapter 2

House pulled his usual tricks to avoid Cameron as long as he could.

The pain in his leg was returning and he was avoiding dealing with that reality for as long as possible.

Not far from the surface House knew this fantasy he'd been living for the past weeks was too good to be true. At least, too good to be true for him. Life didn't deal him good hands and House knew this. He'd been far too much of an ass for such good fortune to come his way. Ironically, the world would have seemed more in balance if the Ketamine treatment hadn't been successful and now it seemed all would soon be right with the world again. But just for good measure the gods had made sure he had a nice long dose of the good life before yanking it back away from him.

And now, the last thing he needed was Cameron caring about it. While the pain hadn't returned with enough intensity to keep him from hiding it from everyone else, running was definitely out of the question. And he knew she wouldn't let it go for long.

Although he knew better than to ever admit it, House had enjoyed his runs with Cameron. But none of that mattered now. Karma was about to correct anything House might have been enjoying since getting his leg back. The harsh reality of that was creeping back into his life. He wished he could just will himself directly into his bed where he would stay with a fifth of vodka and a bottle of Vicodin and never have to deal with anyone and all their damned sympathy over his soon to be returning pathetic reality.

House hung out in the pediatrics lounge mindlessly clicking the TV channels for as long as he could tolerate before heading back to his office for his things. He was hoping everyone would be gone, especially since they didn't have a case. The conference room was dark; his plan to avoid everyone had worked. At least something had gone right today.

As he quickly packed his things into his bag, he heard Cameron say, "Are you going to leave me hanging again tonight?" She was trying to sound light-hearted but failing miserably. She was so damned predictable.

"What? Are you stalking me now?" he said, not turning around.

Cameron simply stood in his doorway, in the shadows of the single light that was lit in the office, arms folded in front of her patiently waiting for him to answer her question.

House zipped up his backpack and turned to face her.

"You're a big girl now. I think you can find your own way home from now on," he sniped at her, without any of his normal vigor. He just wanted out of there. The sooner he could get home the better.

As he saw concern take over Cameron's expression, he figured 'from now on' had probably been a bad choice of words.

"Are you okay?" she asked delicately.

"Here we go…" he mumbled under his breath.

"Never been better," he said flatly as he tried passing her in the doorway.

Cameron didn't move but instead unfolded her arms and put her hands on House's shoulders to stop him. She looked him straight in the face even though he refused to meet her eyes.

"You want to care, Cameron? You want to nurse your sick puppy, do you? Then write me a script for some Vicodin, and leave me the hell alone." House said, eyes looking down and off to the side then moving up to meet hers.

"Vicodin?" Cameron questioned.

House let out an obnoxious laugh and pushed his way past her, "And here I thought you were a doctor," he said as he started to walk away.

Cameron quickly caught up to him and grabbed him by the arm, stopping him. House closed his eyes and crunched up his face thinking he really didn't want to do this right now; why couldn't Cameron just have gone home already? She wasn't going to let this one go and he couldn't turn around to face her.

"House? Does your leg hurt? Is that why you haven't been running the past two nights?" Cameron asked, letting her words out cautiously but not releasing his arm.

"Yes," he returned, turning around to look at her.

"But you're not using your cane and you're not limping," Cameron questioned.

"Are you telling me my leg doesn't hurt?" House spat back. He was quickly losing his patience with this conversation. He just wanted to go home and be alone.

"No, I'm not saying that. I just don't understand. What's going on?" Cameron replied calmly.

"Just write me the script and mind your own damn business for once, Cameron," House returned.

"You know, House? It really doesn't matter how much you don't want me to care. The fact is, I do. And if you don't like it, that's too bad. What are you so afraid of?" Cameron said, boldly bracing herself for his response.

"Write me the damn script, Cameron!" House shouted back at her.

Cameron stood looking surprised by House's tone.

"No," she responded plainly.

House pulled his arm away from her grip and started back down the hallway. Cameron paused for a moment, confused, and ran after him. She stepped in front of him stopping him again.

"What is going on with you, House? What's up with the Vicodin?" she pressed, her own voice showing some aggression now.

"I need it," he returned flatly, surprised and exhausted by her persistence.

"House…" Cameron started then stopped, not knowing what else to say.

"What…?" House replied, aware of what was going through Cameron's mind.

"I watched your body detox while you were in your coma. That's something I never want to have to watch again," she finally said, looking at the floor.

"No one made you watch the first time," House returned bitterly.

Cameron took a deep breath and looked at him strongly, "I'm not going to question whether or not the pain in your leg is back, okay? But I am going to question that it's bad enough that you need your Vicodin again. As much as you didn't want to admit to it, you were addicted and I don't want to see you do that to yourself again."

She continued, "I might consider giving it to you if I knew it was for the pain but I don't think that's what it's for, is it House?"

He looked away and didn't respond.

"You're clean for the first time in how long? Five years? Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No, but we all know it's inevitable, don't we?" House replied.

"No, we don't know that. Why don't you take it easy for a few days and see how it feels then," Cameron offered.

"I have been taking it easy, or didn't you notice you've been running alone?"

Cameron thought for a moment. "Give it a little time before you give up on it, House. You're not as young as you were five years ago, you know?" she said, managing to grin and grimace at the same time.

"Don't you think I know what the pain in my leg feels like?" House returned, growing more and more impatient with her.

"Of course I do. I'm sorry, I'm just trying to consider what else it might be. This doesn't mean the Ketamine didn't take.

You've been so...happy."

"Yeah...well...happiness is overrated," he said as he pushed past her again.

House glanced at the stairwell door as he passed it by and hit the down button for the elevator. He knew Cameron was watching him, probably with eyes full of disappointment or worse yet, sympathy, so he refused to turn and look at her, relieved that she didn't try to stop him again.

Now it was his turn to disappear behind the protection of the steel doors of the elevator as Cameron stood and watched him go.


	3. Chapter 3

Several months passed as Cameron watched House deteriorate. It hadn't been more than two days after their confrontation until she saw him using again and shortly after that he was back to his cane. She wasn't sure how he'd managed to get his hands on the pills and she never asked. Damn Wilson or Cuddy if either of them wrote him the prescription without putting up a hell of a fight, and of course Cameron couldn't put it past Chase to write it for him.

Watching House slip past his normal level of unhappiness was almost more than Cameron could stand to watch. He had always been an ass but frequently an entertaining ass when he wasn't directing his wit at her. But the humor was gone and a dark cloud seemed to hang anywhere he went. He'd become harder and harder to communicate with, and Cameron knew nothing good would come of her trying to.

Foreman had had enough abuse and went to work in the neurology research department at Baylor University. Chase tolerated House in his normal ways. When it's all about the paycheck it's surprising what some can put up with and even participate in. And Cameron, as much as she considered looking elsewhere, couldn't live with the thought of leaving House in this condition. She still cared for him, God only knew why.

Wilson did little more than keep House from completely falling off the edge of the living while Cuddy threw empty threat after empty threat his way. The entire situation had deteriorated but patients were still being cured and donors were still contributing, so things went on as normally as they could. But there was certainly nothing normal about the diagnostics department of PPTH these days.

The situation with House continued to spiral downward until Cuddy was forced to make good on her threat. Even though the team had managed to cure her, a former patient was filing the largest medical malpractice suit in PPTH history. The board gave Cuddy no choice.

At least she hadn't called security to escort him out of the hospital after dropping the news on him. She had at least given him the dignity of letting him leave on his own. Her threats had become nothing more than a gnat buzzing around House's face for months and he never thought she'd ever make good on one. But she had and now he was facing an eight-week suspension.

It was the middle of the afternoon and House thought he'd get this vacation started off right with a nice stiff drink and a pair of Vicodin, crunched not swallowed for maximum effect. As he lay on the couch, hoping to God that he'd just pass out sooner than later, he remembered his morphine stash and wondered if it had expired. Hell, he didn't care, as soon as he woke up he was taking a hit. It wasn't like he had a job to wake up for tomorrow.

His thoughts quickly faded right on cue. Just like he wanted; just like they had done so many times before.

"House," he heard in a faint and contorted voice.

"House, wake up."

He tried turning over and away from it but his body was in so much pain he could only wince and mumble, "What the hell."

"House, what did you take?" he heard again, the voice becoming clearer.

"Nothing," he slurred out.

"Right," he heard in a long drawn out tone of sarcasm.

"Listen, if you aren't sober enough to hear what I came to say, then it's your own damn fault," House heard as he finally recognized the voice; Cameron.

"Goodbye," she said as House heard the sounds of her gather her things.

"Wait…" House moaned attempting to move; groaning from the pain.

"Wait for what? For you to sober up?" She said with a noticeable amount of hostility in her voice.

Cameron paused waiting for him to at least attempt to answer her.

"Damn it, House…" Cameron's disappointed voice trailed off as she ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

"What do you mean…goodbye?" House finally said squinting from the lights Cameron must have turned on, trying to look at her.

"I gave Cuddy my resignation this afternoon," Cameron said flatly.

A sudden and sharp pain shot through House, but this pain he didn't quickly recognize.

"Wait," House groaned out as he strained to sit up.

He was trying desperately to regain some lucid thoughts while he tried to fully realize what Cameron had just said to him.

"I wanted to tell you myself. I knocked for about five minutes but no one answered and I realized your door wasn't locked. So I let myself in," Cameron stopped, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, "Listen, I can't see you like this. I shouldn't have bothered you. Goodbye, House…" Her voice weakened as she turned to leave.

House's head was pounding. He sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"Just give me a damn minute, will you, Cameron?" He winced as the vibration of his own voice only intensified the grip of the vice on his head. He was desperate to put two thoughts together but he knew he didn't want Cameron going out his door.

Cameron stopped, but didn't look at him. She just stood towards the door, hugging herself, fighting the welling in her eyes.

"I can't do this," he started then finally managed to force out quietly, "I think I need help."

Cameron's heart sunk to her stomach and she closed her eyes tightly.

Both of them were silent for several moments until House finally said, "Don't go…please."

Cameron wiped her eyes and straightened herself before going into House's kitchen to find something to help him sober up. She returned with a stale cup of coffee she'd found and reheated in the microwave and a glass of cold water. She placed them on the table in front of the couch then sat in the chair opposite him.

"You know I'd do anything for you, but you've got to be ready to help yourself, House." Cameron finally broke the silence.

"Yeah," he responded faintly, still holding his head in his hands.

Cameron remained quiet, giving House the opportunity to say what he was trying to say. She knew how hard this must be for him.

"I've been looking into something," House said quietly.

He paused then continued as he looked up at Cameron, "You were the only one that told me no when I wanted the Vicodin back, do you know that?"

Cameron just looked at him and listened.

"And I never told you how well I thought you handled Foreman and his treatment when he was sick," he continued.

"Now I need you to do that for me," House said looking at Cameron, still finding it hard to focus. He closed his eyes and leaned back to rest his pounding head on the back of the couch.

"What do you need me to do?" Cameron asked quietly.

"Over there on the table. There are some things I got in the mail from a clinic in Michigan. But I need someone to go with me," House mumbled towards the ceiling.

"Well, since neither of us has anything better to do for the next few weeks, apart from me finding a new job, I think I can fit you in," Cameron smiled, trying to lighten the mood a little or at least put House a little more at ease.

He opened one eye and looked over at her showing how much he wasn't appreciating her humor at the moment.

Her attempt obviously wasn't working. Cameron returned a hesitant grin.

"Listen, House, drink some coffee and try to sleep it off, okay? We can talk more about it tomorrow," she said as she stood up, walking towards the table looking for the things House was talking about.

"Is there anything I can get for you before I leave?" Cameron offered, picking the information up and glancing at it quickly as she walked towards the door.

House didn't answer as his thoughts were beginning to drift again.

When Cameron opened the door she heard him say, "Yeah…"

"Yeah, what?" Cameron stopped.

"Yeah, there is something you can get for me," he replied, his words getting weaker.

Cameron waited to see if he would finally say what it was or if he would pass out again and start snoring.

"On top of that bookshelf over there, by the kitchen door," House swallowed loudly as his head was still resting on the back of the couch. "There's a small locked box. Take it home with you," he mumbled.

Cameron, confused, slid a chair over to the bookshelf and while she wasn't tall enough to see what was up there she carefully patted her hand around until she found what felt like a small metal box. She took it down and looked at it.

"Where's the key?" she asked.

"No key…just take it with you," he said.

"Okay," she answered as she stepped down and returned the chair under the table.

As Cameron walked behind him, she placed her hand on his shoulder, "I'll call you tomorrow."

Cameron spent the night reading the information she had picked up at House's place. It was a clinic that specialized in rapid detox programs. She also searched the internet for anything else she could find on similar subjects and read through endless personal accounts of these procedures. She began to wonder what she'd gotten herself into but tried to quickly dismiss any reservations.

Cameron figured House never knew what his body had gone through during his coma, not that he would have wanted to. But reading about it and knowing it as a doctor was worlds away from experiencing it, especially seeing someone you care about go through it. This brought her back to the memories of her husband in the final stages of his cancer. But that situation was terminal; this one was full of hope.

Her thoughts often shifted to the box House had sent home with her. She wondered what was inside, but considering the circumstances, it was likely that she already knew. She decided she wouldn't ask or try to figure it out. It was his business. Knowing now didn't matter anyway.

Cameron lay in bed while a million thoughts went through her mind. She was both excited and terrified at the same time. House was difficult enough to deal with on a good day, although no one had seen any of his good days in a very long time.


	4. Chapter 4

Cameron spent her final two weeks at PPTH finishing up the projects she'd started and going through the mounds of House's paperwork Cuddy had dumped on her. With Foreman gone, House out, and Cameron busy wrapping things up, they weren't accepting any new patients. Cuddy assigned Chase to various places throughout the hospital while she decided the future of the diagnostics department.

Cameron and House hardly spoke during that time; she could understand that he was anxious about his decision to detox, let alone the fact he'd asked her to help. The few times that they did speak, he'd snipe at her for no good reason – like House ever needed a good reason - but she was proud of him for the step he was about to take. That alone made him more tolerable to her than he'd been in months.

Michigan was a long way from New Jersey in a lot of ways. In New Jersey, she was his subordinate. In Michigan, she was his care-giver. In New Jersey, he was the brilliant director of diagnostics in a prominent teaching hospital. In Michigan, he was just another self-admitting junkie being processed through the system.

"Gregory House...correction, _Dr_ Gregory House." The doctor lifted his eyebrows, stressing the 'doctor' part as he read the file while walking into the examining room and closing the door behind him.

"Dr Tim Johnson," he offered as an introduction. House didn't respond.

"Got yourself hooked on the juice, did you?" he paused, flipping through the pages in front of him, "Twice," he continued, eyes looking up at House.

House just stared back. This couldn't be over soon enough as far as he was concerned. He figured this must be some kind of payback-hell for all the times he'd done this to patients in the clinic back at the hospital.

"Let's see. Six years ago, infarction in the right thigh," the doctor continued, mostly talking to himself while he glanced at House's leg and his cane.

"Ten months ago, gunshot to the abdomen and neck."

"Ketamine-induced coma while Naltrexone was administered," and with this he looked up at House, failing to keep a lame look of concern off of his face.

"How'd that work out for you?" he questioned.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought this was my annual physical before I started spring training with the Tigers," House said looking around the room in an exaggerated fashion, as though for some signs of where he was.

House continued, laughing, "I must be confused because I also thought you were a doctor…but somehow you've missed the cane. Or do you think I just carry it around for the VIP parking?" he added, lifting his cane and pointing it at the younger doctor.

"You're an idiot," House continued as he looked away dismissing him.

"Okay," the doctor responded raising his eyebrows and looking back at his chart. "Well, I'll be your attending; however, you won't see me much. The clinic only needs me here for legal purposes. But I'm sure you know how that works." He opened the door to leave, then turned around and asked, "Were you able to talk someone into coming with you?"

House had turned away from him and was standing in the corner of the room, absently looking at the pharmaceutical posters on the walls, not wanting to give this ass any more of his attention. He just wanted to get this over with.

"Cameron," House answered shortly.

"Cameron," the doctor paused, seeming confused, "With a name like that it could either be the middle-aged Asian guy or the hot little number. Must be the Asian guy?" and he raised his eyebrows, waiting for House's answer.

House turned and glared at him with piercing intensity, "Allison Cameron," he answered flatly.

Dr Johnson looked House up and down, making another obvious visual note of his disability and finished with a glance that made House feel like Cameron's charity case all over again. House gripped the handle of his cane and stared at the floor, feeling that coming here had been a monumental mistake.

Moments later, Cameron opened the door and walked into the exam room.

"Hey," she said, trying to gauge his mood.

"The doctor's…interesting," she added not knowing what else to say.

"He's an ass," House answered limping from one corner of the room to the other.

Cameron laughed lightly, "I kind of thought so, too."

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans, about to say something when he turned and caught her eyes.

His hesitation about the next few days had increased to a whole new level. Not so much because of what he would be going through, but the fact that Cameron would be getting a front row seat. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to walk straight out the door to the car and head back to Princeton.

House's eyes hit the floor as he wondered what the hell Cameron was doing in his life, not to mention here with him now.

"House…" Cameron said, waiting for him to look up at her.

He stopped pacing, his eyes on the floor, leaning forward on his cane. "What are you doing here?" he finally asked.

"What do you mean?" Cameron questioned, taking a step towards him.

"Hell, I know why I'm here. But what are you doing here?" he asked, afraid to look up and confirm his fears.

"I'm here because you asked me to come," she answered choosing her words carefully. She had expected they would have this conversation sooner or later.

"Don't patronize me, Cameron. Why did you agree to do this?" he spat, finally looking at her assuming that was all he'd have to do to find his answer.

But before she could reply, the door opened as a nurse walked in and handed a folder to him as she said, "Bring this down with you at 8am tomorrow…" her voice tailing off as House grabbed the file from her.

"Do you think you can just walk in here whenever you damn well feel like it?" House yelled at her. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she looked over at Cameron and went back out the door.

Cameron watched the door close, then looked into House's eyes and said strongly, "Do you want to know why I agreed to come here with you?"

House, knowing that was a rhetorical question, answered anyway, "No, I'm not sure I do," looking straight into her eyes.

"Okay," she paused, frustrated. "Then why did you ask me? Why not Wilson?" she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

House looked at the floor, "Good question," he said, hiding his resignation. House knew what he wanted to say to her.

He wanted to tell her he trusted her, or at least what he was feeling felt vaguely like what his memories of what trust was supposed to feel like. And while he knew that should be a good thing, in that moment, it scared the hell out of him.

After getting settled into their suite, then driving around town in search of something for dinner, they arrived back at the room. Cameron was glad it was more than a room with just a couple of beds and a bathroom. It also had an attached sitting room with a couch, two chairs, a TV, and a small kitchenette.

House had hardly said anything all evening, and now he was sitting on the couch watching TV. Cameron noticed he'd left it on QVC while they sold one of those miracle age-defying beauty packages. She lay on her bed trying to occupy her mind with a book but it wasn't working. She was worried about the next couple of days. But after House's outburst earlier, she felt she needed to back off as much as she could and let him deal with whatever he was dealing with.

After hearing the promises of younger-looking skin for at least fifteen minutes, Cameron wondered if House had fallen asleep. So she got up and walked into the sitting room. It was dark, with only the flickering of the TV lighting the room. House was staring at it with the remote lying lazily in his hand across his leg.

"Do you want me to call down and see if we can get something to help you sleep?" Cameron offered. "I might ask him for something myself," she joked half-heartedly.

"If you want," House responded, not looking away from the TV, making Cameron wonder if he'd even heard what she said.

"Shopping for Cuddy's birthday gift?"

House put on a slight, vindictive grin and looked over at her. "Cuddy's not getting a present from me this year," he said flatly but with more humor than Cameron had heard from him all day.

Cameron smiled back at him and said, "I think I'll walk down instead of calling. Do you want to come?"

"No," he replied finally starting to flip the channels again while Cameron walked between him and the TV and left the room.

Seeing House smile had helped her to relax a little. It also made her realize just how long it had been since she'd seen him smile at all. There had always been something warm about it when it was genuine and she missed it.

When Cameron returned the TV was still on, tuned to The Cartoon Network, and the credits for an episode of Sponge Bob were scrolling off of the screen. She could hear the shower running.

She felt relieved, hoping that House had finally found something to watch rather than hiding off in his mind somewhere. She really wished he would talk to her rather than keeping it all to himself. She knew him well enough to know that was never going to happen and there would only be hell to pay for trying to force him. But this standing at arm's length was excruciating for her. She was fighting a constant urge to do nothing more than simply put her arms around him and make everything all right, for both of them.

Since House was in the shower, she decided to go ahead and change her clothes. She undressed and pulled on a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt then sat down on the couch and flipped the channel over to The Food Network where Iron Chef was playing.

The water finally stopped and a few minutes later House came out of the bathroom dressed in gray sweats and a white tee-shirt. He tossed his clothes on his bed, and walked over to the table and picked up the pills Cameron had gotten for him.

"Thanks," he said motioning to the pills in his hand and looking at Cameron.

"No problem," she replied, looking away from the TV and up at him.

Cameron got up and handed the remote to him and went into the bathroom. When she came back, House was on the couch and had turned the TV back to The Cartoon Network. This time it was an old episode of The Tick, one cartoon that Cameron actually did enjoy watching.

"I used to love The Tick," she commented, walking over and sitting down beside him.

"Good, because I've decided that's what we're going to watch now," he said plainly.

When the next commercial break came, Cameron looked over at him, "Are you going to snipe at me if I ask if you're okay?" She smiled lightly at him.

"Yes," he said acting interested in the advertisement, but Cameron could see he was working things out in his mind.

She returned to watching the TV, "I love those little gecko commercials."

Moments later, House spoke up, "This must be so painful for you, so much not caring." He looked over at her, raising his eyebrows as he stressed the 'not caring' part.

"I'm only not caring because I care. Does that ruin it for you?" She looked back and grinned.

Several minutes later, just after The Moth saved The Tick's backside yet again, House spoke up and said quietly, "I'm just not sure this was a good idea; coming here."

Cameron looked ahead and simply responded, "Yeah," knowing there was nothing she could add to help him work it out.

"Oh well, tomorrow you'll get to do all the caring you want. Just promise me you'll have it out of your system before I wake up, okay?"

He continued, "Well, there will be those several hours when they've scheduled me to be delusional. Caring is allowed then, too. Just no taking advantage, please." He paused and thoughtfully placed one finger across his lips in contemplation, "Yeah, I definitely have to be awake for that." House tried concentrating on the TV but failed at keeping the wry little grin off of his face.

"Damn it. You cracked my diabolical plan," she returned as seriously as she could, looking back at the TV.

House moved next to Cameron and put his arm around her.

"This would just be so awkward with Wilson right now," he said with mock sincerity.

Cameron chuckled and let that be the last thing that was said while she leaned her head back on his arm, and before Shaggy shouted his first 'Scooby Doo, where are you?' they were both asleep.

Sometime later, Cameron woke up reminded of where she was. Next to House. She tried not to think about how his last waking moments had likely been a little skewed by the sleeping pills. She couldn't count the number of times she'd imagined how even this slight gesture of closeness must feel.

She thought for a moment how she was going to get him awake and into his bed where he could be more comfortable for the rest of the night. And she assumed this position would do nothing to help his leg either. But she knew from the dose that he'd been given, there would be no waking him up for a few hours yet. Let alone her being strong enough to help him to his bed without his cane.

She figured there must be another way to make him comfortable although the last thing she wanted to do was move. She closed her eyes and felt his warmth next to her and listened to his breathing. She nearly dozed back off when she decided to just let him stretch out and have the couch.

She took his hand and removed it from behind her and slowly moved to sit up, careful not to let him tip over. She twisted him around, lowered his head, and lifted his legs, one at a time, to the couch.

She grabbed a blanket and went to his bed to get a pillow. She covered him up and placed the pillow under his head. She flipped off the TV and started towards her bed when she decided staying close to him meant more to her right now than a good night's sleep. So she lifted his head, removed the pillow, sat down and placed his head on her lap with the pillow tucked in between. She slid her hand under the blanket and placed it on his chest, leaned her head against the back of the couch and listened to House breathe while she eventually went back to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

House woke up with his leg throbbing. He could hear the water running in the shower, and it took him a moment to realize he was lying on the couch. He wanted nothing more than to down a couple of Vicodin; instead he slowly sat up and began rubbing his thigh, trying to relieve it as best as he could.

He was still feeling the effects of the sleeping pills he had taken; otherwise, he'd get up and try walking it out. But for now, neither his head nor his body were willing to have any of that.

He tried remembering what had happened before he fell asleep but could only recall something to do with Cameron and the Cartoon Network. Normally the combination of those two would have provided great comedic material but not today; he wasn't in the mood.

House had to admit being here with her was turning out to be easier than he thought it would be. In fact, a lot of things about her had surprised him over the past months. As successful as he'd been at keeping his feelings at bay, it was becoming harder and harder to do. All of her characteristics that he'd so quickly zeroed in on and used as excuses to keep his distance were slowly disappearing, and he was finding it difficult to come up with more.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wishing he'd never found himself in this shitty position.

He had almost fallen back asleep when he heard the shower stop. Running his hands down his face and thinking he should have cut his scruff back, he took a deep breath and reached for his cane. His whole body ached, as he stood for a moment and steadied himself, before walking over to his bed.

He watched Cameron walk out of the bathroom with her hair wet, while the air quickly filled with the very scent he'd noticed on her time and time again. It did things to him that he really didn't want to deal with, especially right now.

He observed her while she rummaged through her bag for who knows what kind of girly thing, when she finally caught his eyes and asked with a smile, "Sleep okay?"

"I didn't have much choice," House replied, in a voice that was still croaky from having just woken up.

"Do you mind if I go in there for a couple more minutes?" she asked, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand.

House didn't answer but he also didn't make any moves towards the bathroom, so she took that to be a no, and went back in.

Seconds later, House walked into the bathroom to find Cameron with her toothbrush sticking out of her mouth and a questioning look on her face, eyebrows furrowed looking at him in the mirror.

When he reached to lift the toilet seat, she took no time making her escape, "House," she whined around her toothbrush.

Moments later when he opened the door and walked back out, Cameron removed the toothbrush so she could say as plainly as she could with a mouth full of toothpaste, "What was that all about?"

"I had to pee," House said simply.

"It couldn't wait two minutes?" she returned.

"No. Anyway...it's nothing you haven't seen before," he said as he picked up his clothes from the bed.

"Uh well, yeah. But I think this is a bit different," she said, grinning and starting to find some humor once the initial shock was over.

"Because we weren't doing a differential? It's all about the work with you isn't it?" He said as he started lowering the waistband of his sweats while he sat down on the edge of his bed.

Cameron just rolled her eyes. House was relieved when she returned to the bathroom to spit and rinse, since he hadn't thought far enough ahead to realize that putting on a pair of jeans while maneuvering around his leg wasn't something he really wanted Cameron seeing. But what the hell: the day was only going to get worse in that regard.

It was 11am and House had been under the anesthetic for about an hour and his body would soon be showing signs of detoxing. Cameron was used to seeing it every day; patients unconscious and hooked to any number of tubes and wires, but it's not an every day occurrence to see your boss - someone you care about - lying there. He looked so helpless. And that's one word she didn't often equate with House.

When she watched him go through this after the shooting she never thought she'd be sitting through it again. But when she interviewed for the fellowship at PPTH, she never thought it would lead to any of this, but who could predict that sort of thing?

She thought about her first day at the hospital and how she'd wanted nothing more than to walk out the door and never come back; House had been so disrespectful to her. But then she remembered the first time she made a significant contribution to the team and the way he looked at her; the first time she noticed the depth in his eyes. He hadn't verbally acknowledged her, but she knew just the same that he had noticed and had given her credit.

Life with Greg House in it was certainly a roller coaster ride. Each day had its own fun, if that's what you wanted to call it. But on a grander scale, she'd gone from almost losing him to running with him in a span of less than three months and now she was by his bed, yet again watching his body fight his addiction.

She didn't know how to feel about being here. All she knew was that she was, and he'd asked her to be, and that meant a lot to her.

Cameron noticed the heart monitor starting to increase and beads of sweat beginning to form on House's face. The next couple of hours would be too painful to watch again and she was confident that the staff here had been through this many times before. There wasn't much she could do in terms of helping, so she told the nurse she was going to step out for a while. The nurse smiled and assured her everything was going to be fine.

Cameron spent the afternoon occupying herself as best as she could. She tried reading and watching TV back at the room; she even went for a run, but nothing could get her mind off House and what his body was going through. At least he was under anesthetic and couldn't feel the pain.

She stretched out on her bed listening to her iPod and must have fallen asleep when she heard the phone ring. She reached over to the bedside table while she looked at the clock; it was nearly 3pm.

"Hello," she answered.

"Allison? This is Ann in the ICU."

"Is everything okay?" she asked anxiously, still a little groggy.

"Yes, everything went fine. We'll be bringing him out of the anesthetic in a few minutes, if you want to be here when he wakes up," the nurse explained.

"Yeah, of course. I'll be right down," Cameron answered, hanging up the phone.

She quickly got up and went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. She looked in the mirror as she dried herself off. She was already looking tired and she knew they were in for a long night.

Moments later she arrived in the ICU. She walked directly to House's bed and stood beside it gently wiping his forehead with her hand. He was burning up and his hair, gown, and sheets were soaked with sweat.

She went to the sink and ran a cloth under some cold water, wrung it out, and pulled a chair up next to his bed. She sat next to him and wiped his face, neck and shoulders. She could smell the scent of vomit around his bed and she painfully closed her eyes, remembering all he'd gone through the last time. She was thankful they'd cleaned him up before calling her down; she couldn't bear to see that again.

House started showing signs of consciousness, while she continued trying to soothe him with the cold cloth. Cameron took hold of his hand. She knew how much he would hate this, but it didn't matter. There was no way she could sit there and do nothing.

"Hey," she said quietly. House didn't respond, looking straight above him.

He closed his eyes and turned his head toward Cameron. Finally, he slowly opened them again, and Cameron smiled at him. House just looked at her without expression. She'd never seen his eyes so shallow and so cold.

"How are you feeling?" she asked rhetorically, knowing he was in no mind to answer.

House just closed his eyes again. The nurse walked over and laid her hand on Cameron's shoulder. "You know he won't quite be himself for a few hours yet," she offered.

"Yeah, I know," Cameron said, still looking at him. She laughed lightly and said, "Most times, House not being himself would be a good thing." She smiled and looked up at the nurse through the welling in her eyes.

"You can take him back to your room as soon as you feel he's up to it. Just let me know and we'll help you," the nurse added as she left the room, leaving them alone.

It had taken two orderlies and the nurse to get House showered, dressed in his sweats and up to their room, but at least now they were someplace that was more comfortable than the ICU. He was in and out of sleep and still mostly unresponsive but at least he didn't appear to be experiencing any pain.

Cameron got him settled in his bed then went to the couch to read.

It was evening before she heard the sound of him moving and trying to sit on the edge of his bed. Cameron quickly went over to him, wondering what he needed. She didn't want him to try something he wasn't ready for and hurt himself.

"I have to pee," he mumbled.

Cameron placed her hand on his shoulder while he attempted to stand on his own.

"Hang on. Let me at least help you up and we'll see how that goes first," she told him, trying to position herself under his right arm. She knew that side would definitely be too weak to hold him up.

"How about you use your cane on your left side and I'll hold you up over here?" Cameron suggested. She reached for his cane and handed it to him. He put his arm around her shoulders and leaned heavily on her while they slowly made their way to the bathroom.

Cameron remembered earlier this morning and knew now she wouldn't be able to escape. She laughed and said, "Twice in one day. This is becoming a habit."

House just looked blankly at her, "You smell good," was all he said in response.

Cameron just grinned and shook her head while she lifted the seat on the toilet. House struggled to find someplace to put his cane until Cameron took it from him. Cameron was glad he was good enough to manage things with only one hand free. She tried her best to be noble and not look; finally she couldn't help herself. But she quickly looked away with a grin on her face.

House turned to her and she suddenly felt guilty.

"I think I love you," he said seriously, eyes still with that shallow and delirious look.

Cameron laughed and played along, "I think I love you too," she said jokingly until she suddenly felt a seriousness come over her as she heard herself say those words. She was sure he'd never remember any of this tomorrow, but she felt there was more truth in what she'd said than she realized.

They made their way back to the bed when House said he thought he'd like to sit up and watch TV for a while. So Cameron helped him over to the couch and gave him the remote.

"I'm going to run down and get us a bite to eat. Does anything sound good to you?"

"A reuben," he slurred, staring at the TV.

Cameron grinned at seeing House this way, "Okay. I'll see what I can do."

But by the time she returned, he had fallen back to sleep. She picked at the food she'd brought back with her for a while then tried waking him, knowing that he needed to get something in his stomach. He stayed awake long enough to eat half of his sandwich before he started nodding off again.

Cameron woke him again and helped him to his bed.

"How's your leg?" she asked.

"What leg?" he replied.

Cameron just grinned, "Are you feeling any pain? You can have ibuprofen tonight if you need it."

House didn't respond, he just laid down and pulled the covers over him. Delirious House certainly was an endearing House, Cameron thought.

Cameron changed her clothes and turned off the TV. She lifted the covers and climbed into bed next to him. She moved close to him with her arm draped across his stomach. As valid as her reasons were, she felt slightly guilty lying next to him in the condition he was in.


	6. Chapter 6

House woke up feeling like he'd been run over then backed over by a steamroller. He wondered what in the hell he'd done the night before to end up in this condition. Whatever it was he hoped he'd enjoyed it; it was too bad he couldn't remember. Or maybe it was for the best. He attempted rolling onto his back when he felt something - someone - up against him. Shit.

He lay there trying to clear the sludge out of his mind; trying to remember who might be in bed with him. Not that there were a lot of options but someone else was definitely under the covers. He wondered what time it was; he wondered what day it was; hell he wondered _where_ he was.

"Are you awake?" he heard from behind him.

A streak of terror rolled through his already aching body when he heard that voice; Cameron.

House forced his eyes open and tried rolling over but his body was in no way ready for that yet.

"What are you doing here?" he mumbled.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Like shit. What are you doing here?" he repeated, confused, trying again to roll over, trying to open his eyes: not that he wanted what appeared to be happening to become a reality.

"We're at the detox clinic," she answered.

House could only lie there while his grasp on things started coming back together, piece by piece.

Cameron mumbled to herself, "What time is it?" as she turned to look at the clock; 10am.

"Let me get you some more ibuprofen," she told him, rolling out of the other side of the bed.

House rolled onto his back, holding his breath then letting it out slowly, feeling relieved when he realized he was fully clothed.

"You had a rough night," she said, shaking out the pills.

House just groaned with his arm across his forehead.

"Here," Cameron said, trying to get him to sit up enough to take the pills and a drink of water.

House took them and swallowed them dry.

"I know you feel like shit, but can you be a little more specific?" Cameron asked.

"How…?" she barely got out when House interrupted.

"Like a throbbing piece of shit," House said. He pried open one eye, squinting up at Cameron, "How's that for more specific?"

She smiled lightly at him.

"You can leave me the hell alone now," House moaned, rolling away from her, glad that Cameron was dressed as well.

His mind was still cloudy, but clear enough to be relieved that at least he hadn't gotten into this condition after a night of drunken sex with Cameron. Not that that would have been all bad, was about his last coherent thought before falling back to sleep.

A few hours passed before House even thought about getting out of bed. He felt like he weighed five hundred pounds but the ibuprofen had made his pain tolerable. He finally managed to remember everything up until arriving at the ICU then anything after that was a complete loss.

He slowly got up and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for his cane, and managed to make it halfway to the bathroom before Cameron was at his side, "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Ready to pee? Yeah, I think so," he said in a sarcastic mumble as he slowly and heavily made his way across the room.

He made it to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

"Your reign of caring can end now," he said through the door, as he leaned on the doorknob, wondering what had happened over the last several hours; more importantly, what level of pathetic Cameron had seen him exhibit.

When he came out, he expected to see her waiting at the door for him but he was relieved to see her sitting on the couch reading.

As he walked over towards her, she looked up from her book and said, "The counseling center called. They set us up for four this afternoon."

House sat down heavily in the chair opposite her.

"They said there's a whirlpool downstairs and they suggested it might make you feel better this morning. Do you think you're up for it?" she continued.

There wasn't one part of his body that wasn't aching to some degree. So House couldn't think of anything that would feel better than soaking in a whirlpool at the moment, especially given the prospect of a crap counseling appointment where he'd have to talk about his feelings.

"I don't know," he mumbled. He didn't have the energy to walk across the room, let alone to go looking for a whirlpool.

"Would it bother you if I got in with you? Sounds kind of good," Cameron asked.

"Depends on what you'll be wearing," House said with a weak grin.

Cameron rolled her eyes and returned to her book.

House was relieved the place was deserted when they arrived. At first, he wasn't too sure about telling Cameron she could come down with him, but he figured what the hell. As much as he hated to admit it, her level of caring hadn't been nearly as annoying as he thought it would be, but of course he was sure he hadn't been conscious for the worst of it. Actually, if he was honest with himself, annoying wasn't the right word; he just didn't like being made to feel helpless and so far that hadn't happened. Which was good.

House sat down on the nearby bench, kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head. Cameron had taken no time removing her shirt and shorts and stepping down into the steaming tub. House watched as she flinched at first, a little surprised by the heat, and slowed her descent into the water. She had pulled her long silky ponytail into a messy collection on the back of her head. She was beautiful, and her suit did everything for her figure, even if it was a bit conservative.

Before Cameron could catch him watching her, he stood up, leaving his cane by the bench and limped heavily over to the water. He lowered his right leg in and leaned back to steady himself with his hands before he had to put much weight on it. He then lowered his left leg into the water and sat on the edge of the tub, getting acclimated to the temperature.

Cameron had already managed to submerge herself all the way up to her neck. And House wasn't far behind. Using the strength in his arms he lowered himself slowly until he was sitting again, the water bubbling around his shoulders.

"Excellent idea," he drew out, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the ledge.

It was apparent to House how concerned she was about him; she had been painfully consistent about that. Unless she was good enough to hide it, and he doubted that she was, she never thought twice about coming here and going through this with him. Even after his brutal attempts to shut her out, after all that, why Cameron still felt the way she did about him was something he couldn't understand.

It would be statistically impossible for a woman of her age, with her looks, intelligence and…niceness…to not have had the opportunity to be with at least a dozen younger, and undamaged guys in the time since he'd known her. Yet here she was; why? He'd have given up on himself a long time ago. A part of him already had.

Cameron was glad House didn't seem to mind that she had come down with him. Well, at least he hadn't said so. She was relieved that this hadn't been the awkward nightmare that she had feared it would be. But for House, she knew the hard part was just beginning.

Meeting with a counselor was something he was clearly none too thrilled about doing. But the follow-up was what made these procedures successful. House had completely ignored any follow-up the first time. But then the decision had been made for him; this time he'd made the decision on his own - hopefully that would make all the difference.

She watched him while he sat there letting the water soothe away the remnants of the detox treatment. She hated feeling like she needed to be so passive with him. So she braced herself for his reaction, when she moved closer and gently put her hand on his right thigh. Startled, he quickly lifted his head up and looked at her through narrow and uncertain eyes.

"Is this okay?" she asked carefully, before beginning to cautiously massage his muscle. Cameron knew she was taking a chance touching him like that, especially there. This could be good or this could turn very, very bad.

House's heart caught in his chest at the sensation, which made fighting it impossible. He leaned his head back and nodded slightly in response as he closed his eyes again.

Cameron watched his face intently as she repeatedly squeezed and released the area where part of his muscle had been removed, looking for any signs that she might be making his pain worse. She never imagined he'd let her do this, but he was.

Feeling comfortable that she wasn't going to hurt him, she leaned her head back beside him and closed her eyes as she continued. His compliance made her want to be closer, but she was already closer than she'd let herself believe was possible.

After a while, Cameron felt his hand on top of hers. She crunched her eyes together bracing herself again for his reaction; sure that he was going to make her stop, afraid that this was too awkward for him, that she was being too intrusive. Instead, he guided her to rub up and down the length of his scar and, without words, convinced her to apply more pressure. Cameron looked at him; his head back, eyes still closed. She was having trouble finding her breath; the level of trust that he was giving her was intoxicating.

She settled back down beside him as he removed his hand from hers and she continued as he'd directed her.

Cameron began to wonder what was going through his mind; she was still expecting at any moment for him to have second thoughts. But if he was, he wasn't showing it.

Soon his hand returned to hers, stopping her movement. She opened her eyes to find House looking at her before tentatively touching his lips to hers. Cameron sat up, slightly lifting her other hand out of the water and placing it on his cheek as she returned his gesture. His kiss was guarded and unsure. Hers was urging and inviting. Cameron could feel his hesitation while she tried to convince him not to give into his fear but to feel safe with her, to trust her.

House slowly pulled away and searched Cameron's eyes for a moment before returning to leaning back on the ledge. Cameron watched him while her mind reeled and her heart raced over what had just happened so unexpectedly. She returned to lying back next to him while House's hand fumbled in the water to find hers. When it did, he returned it to the tangible damage in his leg. What she wanted was to touch the intangible damage that lay beneath the surface, but she was completely satisfied with this for now.

House heard a knock at his door but didn't bother getting up off the couch.

"It's open," he yelled, above the television, glancing back towards the door but not taking his attention from today's edition of General Hospital.

Cameron walked in and closed the door behind her. She dropped her things on his piano bench and stood behind the couch, letting the drama catch her attention.

"What's…"

"Hang on…Carly's about to get some," House said, apparently mesmerized by the story unfolding in front of him.

Cameron rolled her eyes and plopped down on the couch beside him. She looked at him and grinned with amusement that House of all people could be so taken in by the crap storylines these shows inflicted upon an unsuspecting stay-at-home population.

"Maybe Rick Springfield will turn into a _two_-hit wonder now that he's back on the show," Cameron snickered, flipping through the JAMA lying on the table next to the couch.

"Damn, we're going to have to wait until tomorrow," House said, reaching for the remote and flipping the channels.

"Carly, or...Laura Wright was so much better on Guiding Light," Cameron laughed putting the magazine down.

"You watch that crap?" House queried, watching for the Cartoon Network to turn up.

"I've watched a few over the years. It just sucks you in when there's nothing else to do," she replied.

"How goes the job search?" House asked looking at her, interested in her answer for the first time that day.

"It's going," she answered with boredom in her tone, wanting her old job back but not quite ready to ask him about it.

House looked back at the TV and saw an episode of The Tick was coming on. "You're just in time," he said, glancing back at her.

"Ah, The Tick. Good times," Cameron said with mock sentiment and grinned at House, knowing that both of them had a brand new fondness for the old cartoon.

"So how are you doing today?" she asked with hesitation, knowing it was time to break the ice.

"Fine. And no, I haven't used," House said, suddenly uninterested.

There was an awkward silence, like there always was when Cameron asked him about his Vicodin use. But it was part of the therapy and she wasn't about to let her end of the deal down. She figured as long as he left the door open for her, he didn't really mind her coming over. And when she came over he knew what kind of questions she'd ask.

Their relationship had changed since Michigan. She couldn't quite classify it, but that was nothing new for anything that involved House. Whatever it was, it seemed to be working. Cameron liked the company and she figured House liked the distraction.

"Leg's pretty sore today," House finally said, looking over at her.

"Have you been in the tub?" Cameron asked.

"Yeah, didn't do much for it today," he answered, mindlessly rubbing his thigh.

"Think you could…" House asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Why do you think I came over?" Cameron answered with a sneaky grin, "To watch cartoons?" she added.

House stood up and unfastened his jeans and pulled them down to his knees and sat back down, while Cameron got up and walked over to the piano where she'd spotted the message oil earlier.

Today it struck her a little funny that she'd long since gotten over seeing him in his boxer briefs. She pulled up the sofa table and sat down on it straddling House's knee.

House leaned back, making his leg more accessible and laid his head on the back of the couch. Cameron shook some of the oil out onto her hands and began massaging his right thigh.

"Oh yeah, who the hell needs Vicodin?" House mumbled towards the ceiling.

A rush of satisfaction went through Cameron at hearing those words. She was so proud of him, even though that was a word she would never use with him. So far they were beating this thing. Once an addict always an addict; they both knew the reality of that. But the low-dose Naltrexone had managed to work to help fight his cravings and along with the new pain medication, soaking, and massages, was helping to keep the pain manageable.

Cameron massaged his thigh for a good long time before House finally spoke up, eyes still towards the ceiling, "Wilson is just gonna totally suck at this when I go back to work, you know." His voice was throaty and relaxed.

"And the scent of eucalyptus and spearmint wafting out of my office is only going to make people talk," House paused, before continuing, "his dating success is going to go to hell once everyone gets the wrong idea about us."

Cameron laughed, then fell silent again. She was going to miss doing this when House returned to work come next week.

"I could do it for you," she finally said, looking at him.

"Then people might get the wrong idea about us," he said, rolling his head slightly to the side and looking at her through one squinted eye.

Cameron just grinned and concentrated on his leg. It was funny how things changed. Not long ago, running with House in the evenings had become her favorite time of the day. Now this had replaced it.

After a while, House groaned a little as he lifted his head from its position on the back of the couch.

"I thought you had your mind set on research over at the university," he commented.

"I did. But I'm developing a passion for physical therapy," she replied, grinning at him.

"Don't make me beg. Once is excusable; twice is just wrong," he said sternly.

"You think Cuddy will take me back?" she asked, returning her eyes to his leg.

"To hell with Cuddy," he answered, laying his head back again.

"It's a deal then," Cameron laughed lightly, presuming that was House's way of making an offer.

When her arms grew a little tired, she stopped and just watched him. Sometimes she couldn't get enough of just watching him.

House finally raised his head up and looked at her, "Are you going to stay tonight?"

"I thought maybe I would," she answered, reaching for the towel that was lying on the table and trying not to look too pleased by his question.

"Good. 'Cause I've got some dishes in the sink and some laundry that needs doing," he said as he leaned his head back again, hiding his slight grin.

Cameron laughed, "Great; that gives _you_ something to do tomorrow. And I suppose you don't have any food in the fridge, either, do you?"

"Nope," he answered.

"Why do I put up with you?" she laughed, playfully nudging his leg as she stood up and headed towards the kitchen.

"Hell if I know," he said mostly to himself, as he laid his head back again.

The answer to that question was still a mystery to him. But he was leaving well enough alone. He wasn't happy; he might never be happy. Happiness and Greg House just did not sit well in the same sentence, and probably never would. But Cameron made him a little less miserable, and that would do for now.


End file.
